Chapter Seventeen- Village People

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Sometime later, Arin opened her eyes and blinked, momentarily confused by the grey roof tiles above her. She hadn't meant to drift off. Her hand itched and made her look down at the line still in her hand. The tubing ran up to the bag of saline and a smaller bag on the silver hook that hadn't been there when she had fallen asleep. She hadn't meant to sleep...the last thing she could remember was the trip back through the hospital to her room. Watched the ceiling lights above her flick past overhead. Internally wrestling with the feelings of panic that threatened to engulf her and trying to tell herself that she didn't feel exposed. By the time they had parked the gurney beside her bed and it was time for her to move, she felt wrung out, like an old dish cloth.

She had settled into the bed again and closed her eyes for just a moment...a few seconds reprieve...while House and his flunkies talked in hushed voices, casting glances at her every few moments. Sleep was so welcome...but the thumping of her heart seemed like it would never slow. She closed her eyes and listened to it, trying to force deep relaxing breaths.  Turning her head towards the window she saw the deep blue of the sky outside unhindered by clouds. How long ago was that? Her neck was stiff from the alien pillow and mattress.

"How's your head?" A voice asked from the bottom of the room. The girl sat up slightly on her elbows to look quizzically in the direction it came from. House looked up at her from the chair at the bottom of her bed and the medical journal he was reading. His shirt and jacket from earlier were missing, the slight difference seeing him in the dark jeans and a band t-shirt that she couldn't make out was somehow startling. He wore a pair of silver wired spectacles which he peered over and met her dark brown eyes over the top of the glossy paper. He held her gaze for a moment and waited.

"What are you still doing here?" She asked groggily and pushed herself further up, reaching for the water at her bedside.

"I work here." He told her.

She rolled her eyes. "I mean, why are you still in my room? Don't you have an office to sit around waiting for your patients to wake up from naps?"

He gave a sort of half smile. "Normally yes, but with you, I feel like I need a front row seat just in case I miss something." he folded his journal and put it down on top of a small stack of papers. Apparently, he was in for the long haul.

She picked up the water pitcher and felt her hand shake slightly. Concern blossomed across her expression. She felt so weak. Her eyes moved upwards hearing the squeak of his shoes on the linoleum floor.

In two strides, House was at her side. Gently he took the pitcher from her and filled the small cup with water which he handed to her.

"Thank you." She said and sipped.

This caused him to raise his eyebrows but not comment other than to say "You're welcome." She seemed calmer in his presence. As she drank he checked the readouts on her vitals.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"Late afternoon by now." He said without diverting his attention. Satisfied he stepped back and observed her for a moment. " You spiked a fever shortly after moving back to your room. I've started you on some steroids and some broad-spectrum antibiotics. I thought it best to let you sleep."

She continued to sip her water until the cup was empty. When no conversation was forthcoming he added. "The blood work showed a slight increase in your white blood cell count this time, coupled with fever it means infection. The LP was clean. ..." she raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything so he continued. "Your temperature is better. Sit forward for me." He visually inspected the rash on her neck. The inflammation was down and the skin looked relatively normal. "The rash looks better. The meds seem to be working"

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